


You Must Be He I Was Seeking Or She I Was Seeking

by FiercelyLittle



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Amybeth McNulty said Bi rights, Anne exploring her sexuality, Bisexual Anne Shirley, Bisexual Panic, F/F, F/M, Fluffy Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blyth is an Ally™, Gilbert Blythe has Heart Eyes, Poetry, Season 3 AU, Some light kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28159863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiercelyLittle/pseuds/FiercelyLittle
Summary: "Could you be sent into a panic from the sheer beauty of another? All signs pointed to Yes.It would be the curse of Anne Shirley-Cuthbert to experience a beautifully meaningful epiphany in regards to her own sexuality and then have it completely sabotage her in public.”In which Anne experiences Bisexual Panic™️ and Gilbert is a good friend ft. the poetry of Walt Whitman.
Relationships: Anne Shirley/Original Female Character, Cole Mackenzie & Anne Shirley, Diana Barry & Anne Shirley, Diana Barry/Jerry Baynard (If you squint), Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Jerry Baynard & Anne Shirley, Josephine Barry & Anne Shirley, Winifred Rose/Original Female Character
Kudos: 33





	You Must Be He I Was Seeking Or She I Was Seeking

**Author's Note:**

> The timeline is a remix but its not terribly important to the plot. 
> 
> Please excuse the insanely exCeSsiVe use of italics.
> 
> Title and work inspired by Walt Whitman's 'Passing Stranger'

Anne’s life was, at present, a touch overwhelming and the rich paper of Aunt Jo’s invitation offered a blessed distraction. Away from studying for the Queen's entrance exam and the extra work that came with the school newspaper gaining traction as well as the... _other_ things pressing on her mind. Anne practically shot out of the house, hollering her excuses to Marilla as she did. 

The postman’s route took him by the Barry’s just before Green Gables so she wasn’t a mite surprised to see their eldest scurrying down the other towards her. 

“Anne!” 

“Diana!” 

The two girls collided in a flurry of hair and exhilarated giggles, “Oh, dearest Diana! Another soirée!”

Her bosom friend was still rendered breathless from the run and the exciting news but heaved a laugh nonetheless, gripping Anne’s arms and spinning them gleefully. “Think of it, Anne! The music, the dancing, the company! And _Anne!”_ Diana’s flushed face somehow gained even more of a glow, halting their spinning to lean in close and whisper, “We’re seventeen! Practically ladies, Anne! Do you know what that means?” 

Anne, thrilled by the intrigue of it all, shook her head and kept her wide eyes trained on her friend.

“It means that we can wear proper dresses, with corsets and everything!”

“ _Really?_ ”

“Mother says that sixteen is when a girl becomes a woman so I don’t see how anyone can tell us that we can’t a year after the fact! Especially at a city soirée!”

“Oh, Diana, that would be sublime!” It was the stuff of dreams to be a lady of glamour but Anne was sharply reminded by a voice that had started sounding more and more like Marilla that a dream is what it would remain, “But…I don’t have anything that would suit a stylish party and I simply cannot ask Marilla and Matthew for such a frivolous expense!” 

Her darling Diana smirked, tipping her head like she did when she was about to say something clever or witty or- “Then it’s a good thing Mother has been preparing my closet for Paris, isn’t it? You’ll borrow one of mine, of course!” 

Practically squealing, Anne threw her arms around the girl, “You truly are the most wondrous of friends, Diana!” 

“Anything for you, dear Anne.” was said with a tight squeeze and followed by a bright laugh as she extricated herself and bowed deeply. “May I have dance, my lady?” 

A matching peal of delighted laughter broke from Anne and she curtsied grandly and accepted the offered hand. “You may, handsome sir.” 

Giggling all the while, the two girls waltzed under the trees until the distant clang of Marilla ringing the bell for supper drew them away with a warm embrace and kisses sent through the air. 

**~**

If Anne was tingling with possibility before she was positively humming with it when she returned to Green Gables to discover she’d overlooked a short letter included with her invitation. Aunt Jo had humbly asked her to again recite something at the party and included a short poem that she stated was one of Gertrude’s favourites for her to set to memory. 

It was an invigorating prospect as much as it set her nerves aflame. Last year’s soirée had filled her with such joy and surety that the world was filled with so many kindred spirits and her heart had felt impossibly warm and full inside her chest for a full month after. To stand in front of such a crowd and have them not gawk or snigger at her passion was a revelation and the reminder of it set Anne’s nerves to rights. To do so again would be nothing but an absolute privilege. So much so, that she wolfed down her simple supper and ran up to her room to begin memorising the majestic words the moment that Marilla declared her chores completed to her satisfaction. 

Unfolding the poem reverently, Anne took in the words carefully written in Aunt Jo’s own hand. She devoured it in seconds, eyes roving over the words like they were about to vanish and sighed at the loveliness. 

It was the second read-through that made a peculiar feeling flutter and settle in her stomach. _You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking,_ written as simply as that. He or she. Plainly stated. Anne was taken aback. She hadn’t been _denying_ her sexuality, exactly, but when she reflected on it in her head or discussed it with the Snow Queen when Matthew and Marilla had gone to bed it was never this simple. Aunt Jo’s library had offered a few illuminating books on the subject but she could never take them with her when she visited and so even with a name to call it, it felt intangible. There was always doubt that she was misreading her impulses and feelings or fear that she was once again something _other_ and that she should just stick to fitting in. Leave it to a poet to comfort her so thoroughly with so few words. 

A finger gently traced the inked letters that had so quickly embedded themselves in her soul and Anne marvelled, not for the first time in her short life, at how wonderful it was to be reminded that she wasn’t alone. 

~

The day of the soirée was soon upon them and Anne could scarcely wait to be among so many friends again. Marilla sent her away with a basket of fresh plum puffs for her gracious host and a warning not to get into any mischief which she met with a grin and a promise not to be _too_ beguiled lest she forget her manners. 

Diana and Jerry were already standing by the carriage, cheeks red from the cold, when she skittered out of the door and barrelled towards them with unrestrained glee. The journey was luscious and Anne was surprisingly grateful for Jerry’s warm presence, even going so far as to thank him when he jumped down to open the door for them upon their arrival instead of insisting that she was _quite_ capable of opening a door, _thank you very much._

Aunt Jo and Cole were both greeted with hugs that she dearly hoped conveyed just how grateful she was so see their beloved faces again. It truthfully hadn’t been long since she was last in Charlottetown to call but any time away from one’s kindred spirits was certainly overlong. 

“Diana, Anne-girl, Jerry! I do hope your journey was pleasant, my dears.” Aunt Jo said, with a twinkle in her old eyes. She had missed them as well, it seemed. “Rollings, if you’d please be so kind as to take our guest’s luggage to their rooms.” 

The stoic man nodded curtly and kindly took Anne’s offered basket of sweets, going about his business as Aunt Jo gestured to them to follow her and Cole through to the main hall with a wave of her cane. Cole’s arm wound its way around Anne’s shoulders and she leaned into her friend’s side, content to soak up his sorely missed presence. 

“ _Mon Dieu.”_ Jerry’s whispered words of awe didn’t do any justice at all to the wonder before them. Miss Josephine Barry had outdone herself. 

Once again, the space was a haven of colour; as if Mother Nature herself had set aside a sole oasis in the inhospitable winter. Flowers descended from the ceiling much as they had the year before and filled the room with such a divine scent that Anne had to take a moment to shut her eyes and breathe it in. In that moment she could have been Chloris, Goddess of flowers herself, basking in her bounty. 

When she had inhaled her fill of the intoxicating scent, Anne beheld the vines snaking up and over every wall and window to marvellous effect and could not help the laugh of breathless disbelief when she noticed the large tree - _A Tree!_ \- sitting beautifully in an ornate pot in the corner of the room, lemons drooping languidly from its boughs like stolen drops of sunshine. The house had yet again been transformed into a paradise. 

“Aunt Jo, it’s exquisite!”

“Exquisite doesn’t go far enough, dearest Diana.” She breathed, “I feel as though we’ve been transported to the most magical of flowery bowers where only fairies and goddesses dare to tread. Such resplendence _cannot_ be meant for mortal eyes.” 

Her declaration was met with a huff of amused laughter from Cole and a scoff from Jerry but Aunt Jo hummed, “Fear not, my dear. Come tonight, none among us will be mere mortals. We’ll be having far too good a time for that.” 

Anne and the others laughed, enchanted, and she couldn’t resist claiming a stray bud from the floor to tuck behind Diana’s ear. It was she who chivalrously offered her hand this time and Diana was quick to give a flourishing curtsy so that they could glide around the empty room that would be so full of bodies later that evening, clinging to one another to keep their happy laughter from bowling them over.

~

“I can’t wear this!” 

“Anne, please-"

“Diana, it’s _PINK!”_

Sighing, Diana took the dress fully out of its box and laid it out on the bed. “Mother said the turquoise dress was too expensive to risk ruining and sent this one instead. It’s still beautiful, Anne.” 

“But I truly _cannot_ wear pink, Diana! Not with this dreadful red hair!” Anne tugged miserably on her braids, cursing the colour once more. 

“Your hair is lovely, Anne. And it has darkened to a handsome auburn that will look splendid with this blush pink-” Diana shot a warning look when she looked about to interrupt, “It will! You’ll look like a flower in bloom, I swear! Now stop fussing and let’s get ready so we can actually enjoy this soirée, alright?” 

She didn’t believe her but they didn’t have any other options or time to _fuss_ as Diana called it. Anne pulled the delicate dress on over her corset and underskirt, disheartened but determined to enjoy herself despite her appearance. It was a lovely dress. And she really was very grateful to Diana for letting her borrow it, saying as much to her beautiful friend. Blush pink, like Di said, with softly puffed sleeves and ruffled neckline that left her shoulders and collarbones uncovered. _Freckles bare for all to see_ , she thought _, Marilla would keel over_. 

Anne couldn’t feel remorseful, however, not when the bodice was so beautifully embellished with matching pink flowers that trailed even to the tops of the skirt. She felt like a walking garland despite the unflattering colour. Diana looked simply magical and she told her so emphatically. Her periwinkle dress made her look like a water sprite with its flowing fabric dancing around her. 

Jerry and Cole came to escort them down. Jerry in a suit handed down from his eldest brother whom he was starting to rival in height and the latter looking dapper in a charcoal suit with stunning embroidery worked into the lapels. Anne held them back a full five minutes insisting he allow her to thoroughly admire the intricate design. Her friends humoured her but still forced her to face her nerves and follow them down the staircase.

Guests were trickling inside in the dozens and a great deal of Anne’s anxiety flew away when she spied familiar faces in the crowd; Aunt Jo was mingling with her sunflower gentleman from last year (dressed as a daisy this time around) and the wondrous artist who praised her connection to words (and whose name she had discovered was Vivienne) was observing the coming crowds from beneath the lemon tree with a cohort of her own.

The three friends were almost to the bottom step when Anne stumbled. 

In her defence, she had _not_ been expecting to see that particular face this evening. Jerry steadied her but Anne was still thoroughly off-balance seeing Gilbert Blythe in Aunt Jo’s ballroom. He was looking right at her and try as she might to appear unaffected, Anne could only muster a small embarrassed smile as she scuttled away from the stairs to the safety of Aunt Jo. 

She greeted them warmly and introduced the daisied gentleman - _Reginald_ \- who did indeed kindly compare Anne and Diana to fresh blossoms just as her friend had predicted. Avoidance, however, was not in the cards because Diana had spotted their schoolmate moments after she had and now pulled her close to whisper, “I didn’t know Gilbert was attending! Did you?” 

Blushing, Anne indignantly denied it, “Of course not! How could I?” 

“I did.” A cool voice said over their shoulders. 

Both girls shot their friend a glare, annoyed that their not-so-secret conversation had been overheard. “And?” 

Smirking, Cole turned them to face the mop of curls that Anne had been avoiding and pointed out the three bodies to his right. “The smaller blonde is Miss Winifred Rose who works with Dr. Ward and our boy Blythe.” Anne did not like the sinking feeling in her gut at his words but stopped her eyes from narrowing as they wished to, “The taller woman to her right is her younger sister Miss Jacqueline and next to her is Miss Winifred’s partner Miss Beatrice Welsh.” 

Her breath left her in an embarrassing gust but Anne paid Cole’s smug smile no mind and instead languished in the instantaneous relief of knowing that Gilbert wasn’t attached to the stunningly beautiful blonde woman. She revelled in that feeling for a long moment before locking it away in a steel cage before which denial and fear of the unknown prowled like beastly sentinels. 

“Gilbert!” _Huh?_ “Good to see you, Cole. How are you finding it here in Charlottetown?” The object of her attention had somehow managed to cross the room without actually gaining her attention.

_Good heavens, I have got to stop getting lost in thought._

He looked dashing up close, she admitted. His suit was well-loved but nonetheless fine and Gilbert certainly looked at ease, a bright grin lighting up his face as he greeted the four of them. “It’s wonderful, thank you.” 

“I’m glad to hear that.” He said, hazel eyes danced over to her blue, “Anne, Diana, you both look lovely this evening.”

Meeting his eyes shouldn’t have been this much of a trial; heaven knows how hard they had worked to cement themselves as friends (practically family!) and all of a sudden she couldn’t make simple eye contact with the boy. “Thank you, Gilbert. You’re looking very fine yourself.” 

He laughed - _bashfully?_ \- “Well, thank you. Diana, Jerry, how are you both?” 

Jerry, looking thoroughly out of his depth, went to grab the brim of a hat that wasn’t there, “I am well, _merci_.” 

Diana placed a gentle hand on their nervous friend’s arm and smiled demurely, “Very well, Mr Blythe, thank you. How do you do this evening?” 

“Excellent, thank you! Miss Barry throws a wonderful party. It was certainly a lovely surprise to be invited to escort the Roses and Miss Welch.” 

Anne was having a hard time looking aloof. She wore her emotions on her face, she knew, and while Anne would never discount feeling as a weakness it was becoming quite an inconvenience. Especially when confronted with boys who wouldn’t stop looking at her with _something_ in their eyes. 

(A voice that sounded like Ruby’s called it _romance_ but denial was growling at her so loudly she pretended not to hear it) 

“I’m glad to hear it!” said Diana, “You must introduce us! They must be wonderful company to warrant an invitation to one of Aunt Jo’s parties.” 

Gilbert laughed at the teasing in her voice but did glance around for his companions. As long as he wasn’t looking at Anne while she was in crisis, she didn’t care. “Soon as I find them, I’ll get you acquainted.” 

“Find who?” 

_Oh wow._

The blonde head that approached from over Gilbert’s left shoulder had to be one of the most stunning she’d seen. _Miss Jaqueline_ , her memory supplied moments before her friend did. 

“Jaqueline, I’d like you to meet Miss Diana Barry, Mr Jerry Baynard, Mr Cole MacKenzie and Miss Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.” 

The former trio tipped their heads respectively while Anne floundered like a lake trout that had been thrown ashore. “Everyone, this is Miss Jaqueline Rose. I work with her sister Miss Winifred Rose at Dr. Ward’s office.” 

“A pleasure.”

“Bonjour.”

“Lovely to meet you.” 

“ _So very lovely.”_

Blue eyes widened impossibly as she realised her mistake but nobody else blinked an eye. Well, Gilbert’s eyebrows rose but Anne was convinced they moved independently from the rest of his body. Not that she was thinking about his body. At all. Ever. _Get a grip, Anne._

“Lovely to meet you all.” _Her accent!_ “Miss Barry, was it? I assume there is some relation?” 

Diana lit up at the opportunity to discuss her glorious aunt and was half way through with her reply before Anne’s brain even caught up with the conversation. Maybe it was the press of bodies all around them but she was feeling sweaty and clammy and altogether discombobulated. Or maybe she was just thrown by being in the company of people who had the ability to stop her usually hyperactive brain in its tracks. Gilbert being one of them was excusable because of their turbulent relationship and that was why she was nervous around him; she didn’t want to do anything to ruin the true friendship being fostered between them - Denial huffed at that but she paid it no mind - Miss Rose, on the other hand, was harder to explain away. Perhaps she was a kindred spirit and something in Anne recognised that without her having to say a word. That was why she was so struck by her appearance and her voice and the way she was smiling at Diana _and was that a dimple!_

Or perhaps she was attracted to her. 

Anne bit her lip. 

That was a perfectly acceptable reaction to have. In fact, it was an exhilarating thought that she had met a woman out with her daydreams or the pages of a book that she could admit she was attracted to in that way. In a sense it was a milestone. Anne smiled to herself, still separate from the conversation happening in front of her. 

She would have to make up for such abysmal manners but she could forgive herself for embarrassing behaviour when it was time spent having epiphanies! Nothing would come of her attraction, she knew, but what a delight to _know_ oneself in such a way. To recognise your own wants and desires. She truly felt like a woman owning her sexuality and with her corset, and hair all curled and with the glass of champagne in her hand - _wait, what?_

Blinking out of her own thoughts, Anne looked at the glass dancing with bubbles in her hand and looked questioningly at her friends. Cole smirked, “Aunt Jo said we were allowed one glass seeing as we’re all rather grown up this year and you were so distracted when I asked that I got you one just in case.” 

“Oh, well, I don’t know, Cole. The last time Diana and I had anything stronger than raspberry cordial…” 

The two girls glanced at each other and burst into giggles. The ridiculousness of the memory bubbled between them like the liquid in their glasses as the rest looked on in bemusement. 

“What are we missing?” asked Gilbert, watching Diana snort behind her glove. Anne sobered and looked apologetically at those she’d left out of their little joke.

“Sorry to leave you out. I was just remembering the time I set Diana and myself drunk on Marilla’s currant wine.”

Jacqueline let out a startled guffaw and Gilbert’s eyebrows did their thing while Cole and Jerry simply nodded knowingly having heard and witnessed the dramatic reenactment at least twice before. 

“I did not mark you as the type, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert.” 

Daring to take a sip of sparkling gold, Anne replied, eye twitching at the tart flavour, “I can assure you it was quite by accident and the aftermath was not nearly so pleasant! And please, Miss Jacqueline, call me Anne.”

Azure eyes warmed and Anne had to force herself not to stare into their depths, “I see! You must call me Jacque then, Anne.” Shifting her gaze, she extended the courtesy, “You must all call me Jacque as well, of course!”

They were silent then. Companionably at first and then Anne’s brain seemed to fuzz. She couldn’t even blame the champagne. It just so happened that Miss Jacqueline - _Jacque! How uniquely divine!_ \- had smiled at Cole and Anne’s gaze had been drawn to her lips. Heavens above, she most certainly had a dimple and Anne’s internal ideal of beauty altered in an instant. Oh and then- _then!_ \- Gilbert had taken a sip of his own glass of bubbles and Anne’s eyes floated to his Adam's apple as he swallowed and _why_ was that attractive?! 

Could you be sent into a panic from the sheer beauty of another? All signs pointed to Yes. 

It would be the curse of Anne Shirley-Cuthbert to experience a beautifully meaningful epiphany in regards to her own sexuality and then have it completely sabotage her in public - she was sure to be looking like a fool at this moment. 

Her mouth was probably hanging open and her eyes were most likely falling out of their sockets, glued as they were to Gilbert. _Oh no, I’m still looking at Gilbert!_

The rest of her party were chatting quietly together and hopefully did not notice Anne forcing her eyes away from her very good _friend_ and the lovely woman she had _just_ met. 

An escape would be ideal at this exact moment. Diana could feign an illness - _no_ , she was glancing at Jerry, who was glancing back and Anne would not spoil the moment for her dear friend. Cole could claim he needed her for an emergency somewhere in the house - but he was chatting animatedly with Jacqueline about his art classes. The petal littered floor offered a fanciful alternative should it suddenly split open and swallow her whole. Now _that_ was an idea! Anne would no longer be herself (the Anne who stared at men and women alike in awe of their handsomeness and who was absolutely clueless about how to handle those feelings) but Persephone, gliding towards the underworld, en route to her mysterious lover. That scenario, Anne rather liked. 

Of course, Aunt Jo calling for her from across the way offered a neat alternative. 

“Please excuse me, everyone! I think it’s time for my recitation.” 

Off she shot, flashing a bright smile that she hoped covered her hopeless embarrassment, cursing her hormones and herself with a disparaging grimace once her back was turned. 

~

Anne was a dream, standing before the crowd with a warm smile. 

“Thank you, Aunt Jo. Now, in honour of dear Gertrude I offer a recitation of _To A Stranger_ by Walt Whitman.” 

Gilbert knew it. Of course he knew it. Whitman was his father’s favourite and he’d spent many a day reading to him the words that Anne was about to share with the room. Knowing it practically by heart, his pulse quickened as she breathed deeply and began. 

_Passing stranger! You do not know how longingly I look upon you,_

_You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking,_

_(it comes to me as of a dream,)_

_I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,_

_All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,_

_You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me,_

_I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only,_

_You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,_

_I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,_

_I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again, I am to see to it that I do not lose you._

Her voice rang through the room as clear and lovely as the sweetest music. Gilbert was sure he looked stupendously idiotic at that moment but he was entirely too bewitched to care a whit. Anne was…. _everything._ Up there delivering words that spoke of a life spent in joy together that he _knew_ weren’t for him but even so his eager heart imagined it with a hope so wistful it _hurt_. 

_I am not to speak to you,_ recalled for Gilbert the first, and most infamous, of their many disputes; him foolishly tugging on a scarlet braid and the accompanying strike of slate and skin with a thunderous _“I’m not talking to you!”_ He was reaching, he knew. But with Anne dreaming up impossible things was inevitable. 

When she concluded her magnificent recitation, rapturous applause and cheering broke over the room to which Gilbert himself contributed enthusiastically. Blue eyes snapped to his and he beamed, hoping his expression conveyed just how much he admired her. Anne’s freckled face darkened and she graciously nodded her head to her adoring audience, grasping the offered hand of Miss Barry and stepping away from the stairs. He strained his neck, desperate eyes following the flowing pink of her dress and the shock of curls that fell down her back. 

“Gilbert, Beatrice and I are getting some more champagne - would you care for a glass?” 

Winnie’s inquisitive hand landing on his arm focused him in the moment. Blinking, he said, “No, thank you. I think I’ll go find Anne.” 

Amused green eyes flicked across the room before settling on him again, “Catch her quick. Jacque’s got a hold of her and goodness knows my sister can talk.” 

Gilbert followed Winnie’s gaze to find that Jacqueline Rose had indeed sequestered herself and Anne under the lemon tree and that the two were certainly getting along. Anne’s entire body was being thrown into the conversation; arms cutting in front and to the side of her to get her point across. A sure sign that she was either nervous or enjoying herself tremendously. Or both, he thought fondly. Jacqueline was equally as enthusiastic, tipping her blonde head back in laughter and throwing her own opinion out into the conversation it seemed, based on Anne’s playfully affronted expression.

“In that case, I’ll join you two for a drink and leave those two to get to know one another. It seems they’re kindred spirits in the making.”

~

“May I kiss you, Anne?”

Anne wasn’t sure she was breathing. The revelation that she was attracted to both men and women was one that hadn’t completely shocked her. She had so much love to give that it made sense she would be born without limits to whom she could bestow it upon romantically. She had known objectively that she didn’t have anything to be ashamed of (and had told Cole and Diana as much after their first soirée) but it always was easier to give advice than to take it yourself. Gertrude’s beautiful poem had expressed so simply the possibility of both that she had finally accepted her predilections during countless hours in study of it. If a poem could express it as plainly as it did then so could she. 

However, Anne’s confidence in her sexuality did _not_ mean that she was prepared to be propositioned in a dark corner of Aunt Jo’s library by one of the most beautiful girls she’d ever seen. Especially one whom she had made a fool of herself in front of not hours before. 

“I’m sorry?” was all that she could manage with her limited air supply. 

Jacqueline grinned and leaned impossibly closer, forcing Anne’s heart to fall into her ribcage. “I asked if I could kiss you, Anne.” _That’s what I heard too_ , she thought with no small amount of astonishment. “I think you’re simply marvellous. You’ve enchanted me tonight, I’m afraid, with your laugh and your reading and hair so exquisitely red-“ She reached a gloved hand up to caress the curl falling at the side of Anne’s face, “-you’re just so....” Jacque swallowed hard and seemed to force herself away. Gauging Anne’s stupefied expression, she frowned and a line appeared between her perfect brows. 

“I’m sorry. I’m aware that was very forward of me. But _you_ must understand how rare it is to have a connection with someone when most girls want a man. To not seize these moments and _connections_ when they are so fleeting seems-“ 

“I do. Understand, I mean.” Releasing a shuttered breath, Anne smiled softly and her companion’s shoulders let go of their sudden tension. “I admit that I was shocked by your question though that was more disbelief that someone as stunning as _you_ would ask someone like _me_ a question such as _that,_ ” her voice quietened bashfully, “not because I find the idea disagreeable at all!”

Jacque’s magnificent dimple appeared in her cheek and if possible Anne’s heart skipped another beat. “Is that a yes, Miss Anne? May I kiss you?” 

Her head was swirling but clear in it’s decision, as was her heart which at this point was positively arrhythmic. Anne was impulsive and she knew this about herself, had suffered the consequences of that particular trait more times than she could rightly recall but this did not feel impulsive. This felt _right._

Anne wasn’t in love with Jacqueline by any means but having debated and laughed with Miss Rose for as little as an hour, she knew she was a kindred spirit. In a myriad of ways! Because she liked girls too! Knowing herself in such a way had brought Anne peace but the knowledge that it was unconventional, even unspeakable in her lovely Avonlea, had been a lonesome feeling. How wondrous now to not be alone in her preference and not just that but to be the object of this girl’s desire! Well, that feeling in her chest may not be love but Anne was inclined to follow its lead. 

“I would like that very much.” 

Jacque’s eyes warmed into pools of liquid cobalt and the way she gently leaned into Anne had her breath catching in her throat as she softly caught her lips with her own. 

But any previous ideas that Anne had about being breathless seemed to pale in comparison to how lightheaded this kiss - _her first kiss-_ made her. Rosy lips were pressed earnestly to her own and _oh._ The perpetrator leaned back ever so slightly to measure Anne’s reaction and seemed unprepared for the girl in question to launch herself at her. Jacqueline laughed against her lips and the feeling delighted her so much she didn’t hesitate to place her hands at the nape of her blonde head while arms wrapped themselves in kind around her own waist, pressing them together deliciously. Hands trailed up her back and settled there, a reassuring warmth against her spine that prompted a contented sigh. This in turn drew a hum from the taller girl who walked Anne backwards to press her into the stacks and who teased the redhead’s lower lip with her tongue, eliciting a gasp at the sensation and a small groan when Jack’s tongue began to dance with her own. 

_Why isn’t everyone doing this all the time if it feels so good?_

Anne’s hands tangled in blonde curls and the girl sighed against her, pressing impossibly nearer and ensuring that their corsets were the only thing barring closer contact. Delicate hands wound into her own hair in response and she definitely understood the appeal when nails softly raked against her scalp, drawing a small sound from her occupied lips. 

“ _Anne?”_

As if burned, the two sprang apart and Anne knew there was no explaining away the scene; she and Jacqueline looked thoroughly debauched with their equally swollen red lips and mussed hair and their embrace would have been scandalous even if one of them was a man. That last fact wouldn’t have been an issue with any other of the parties' many attendees but looking into the hazel eyes of this particular guest made it troublesome indeed. 

She had no idea how she was going to explain this away. Not with Gilbert Blythe looking at her like that. ~

Anne was reeling. And Gilbert didn’t seem to be faring any better. 

His mouth was still hanging slightly open and his usually animated eyebrows were hanging low over his eyes, narrowed harshly. Jacqueline cleared her throat awkwardly and patted down her hair, shifting uneasily, “I’d better get back to the party or my sister will wonder where I’ve gone.” Both sets of eyes flashed to her and she gave her companion an apologetic smile, “I’ll talk to you soon, Anne.” 

She remained frozen even after Jacqueline had left the room and only began to let her nerves show when Gilbert’s mouth finally snapped shut and he seemed to be about to speak. No one knew yet. She didn’t exactly expect open mindedness from the general populace of Avonlea but out of everyone Gilbert had always treated her like an equal and she couldn’t bear if their friendship was lost because of this part of her. Not from someone she so admired and definitely not from the boy she - _Focus, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert._

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

Her eyes flew to meet his gaze and crinkled in astonishment.

“I-I just wanted to congratulate you on your recitation. It was marvellous and I wanted to say so earlier but you got swept up by the crowd and disappeared. I, uh, guess I know where you got to now.” 

His kind words settled inside her but she didn’t dwell on them. She didn’t have time to. She had to salvage this situation. “Gilbert, it’s not-“ 

His hand came up to scratch at the back of his neck, something he did when he was nervous or awkward, she knew. “It’s alright, Anne. Truly.” He said it so earnestly that Anne could have cried at the understanding in his eyes. “I really didn’t mean to spoil your evening. Truthfully, I assumed that you and Miss Rose hadn’t met before tonight. I had no idea you...” 

“We hadn’t.” She admitted with a wince. It was one thing to take liberties with someone you were courting but when that person was practically a stranger….

“Oh.” If Anne had to guess, it was hurt that coloured his tone but the panic still hadn’t loosened its claws around her heart. She straightened her spine and met his eyes once more with purpose. 

“Gilbert, I need you to promise that you won’t tell a soul what you just saw.” 

Her words seemed to bring his eyebrows to life but he said nothing and just nodded solemnly, “I swear, Anne.” The shoulders that had thus far been living by her ears, relaxed and she exhaled the breath that she’d been holding hostage. The boy standing before her looked her over with a worried eye and moved closer, “Anne, I-“ She looked into his face as he drew nearer, “I just want you to know that I would never think differently of you. If that’s what you’re worried about, please know that I would never judge you for loving who you love.” Gilbert tentatively gripped her hand where it rested on her skirts and gave it a reassuring squeeze, “I would only wish to congratulate them for having someone as wonderful as you by their side.” 

Obviously, that was what set her off. 

The tears flooded over and with a heaving sob, Anne clutched her friend to her. She heaved with them and he didn’t hesitate one moment in wrapping her up in his arms and soothing her. He had an excellent bedside manner, her Gil. “It’s alright, Anne-girl. I’ve got you.”

“Oh, Gilbert, it's been so overwhelming!” She admitted with a sniffle, “I haven’t been able to tell anyone! I mean, I’d barely admitted it to myself! And when Jacqueline asked - well, I had to _know!”_ Every second word was accompanied by the sharp inhale of someone in a crisis and he didn’t stop rubbing slow circles on her back even for a second. “What if I never got the chance to do it again? Aunt Jo didn’t meet Gertrude until she was _thirty_ , Gilbert! And Avonlea isn’t exactly Paris now, is it? I just had to know what it felt like before I resigned myself to the inevitability of men for the rest of my life. And Jacque is such a kindred spirit, it felt completely right to be with someone I trusted and I just...” 

At that, Gilbert’s hand stopped its calming movement but started up again immediately, “I understand, Anne. It must have been so hard keeping this to yourself and no one would blame you for jumping at the chance to be with someone who felt the same,” She sniffed miserably in acknowledgement and felt as if she might be over the worst of her outburst, “But surely...surely, you don’t want to live the rest of your life with someone you can’t love?” 

His question was subdued, almost spoken into her hair and Anne strained to hear it over her own heavy breathing but she did and she gently extracted herself from his arms, just enough to meet his melancholy stare with her own red rimmed one, “What do you mean?” 

Gilbert’s expression truly was one of confusion and apology, “I’m sorry to pry, I just don’t understand why you would settle for a man if you couldn’t possibly be attract-love him in that way. Why would you put yourself through that, Anne?” 

She huffed a wet laugh at the misunderstanding and, if possible, Gilbert’s eyebrows sunk even lower on his forehead, “I see where we’ve gotten mixed up.” She took a deep fortifying breath, “I’m attracted to - I _love_ \- both. Men and women.” Those eyebrows shot northward and Anne would have guffawed again if he didn’t seem so blindsided, “I believe it’s called bisexuality if my research is correct, though I don’t doubt Aunt Jo’s library, but you understand now why I was so curious about - well - kissing a woman when I might never get another chance,” They both coloured slightly at the fresh memory of it, “I feel I owe it to myself to explore that part of me. I imagine Jacque felt much the same. But I would still be perfectly happy if I were ever to meet a man and fall in love with him.” 

Gilbert exhaled shakily and brought her back into the fold of his arms, “Thank you for sharing that with me, Anne. Truly, it is an honour to know you better today than I did yesterday.” Slender arms tightened around him then, “I promise I won’t tell anyone but for what it’s worth...I don’t think there’s anything more beautiful than having so much love to give to the world.” 

Anne was crying for an entirely different reason now and she was unashamedly getting his lovely suit damp with her tears, “Thank you, Gilbert.” He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and she smiled against his chest, “You always seem to make me feel cherished even when I’m in the depths of despair. I really am very grateful to call you a friend and kindred spirit.” 

“I’ll always be here for you, Anne-girl.”

“I know you will, Gil. I’ll always be here for you, too.” 

“I know.” Punctuated by another small kiss to her hair. He’d never done that before tonight and Anne could almost bathe in the contented feeling it inspired.

Rising above the worst of the torrent of emotions that had dragged her down, Anne lifted her head from Gilbert’s jacket and offered him a genuine smile with as much warmth as she could muster. Which for Gilbert Blythe was an awful lot. He returned it with one of his own and brushed the last of her tears away with his thumbs, cupping her face between his palms as he did so. 

Looking at him, Anne felt the worry and confusion of the last few weeks catch up with her and then _keep_ rushing past. She felt so at peace in this boy’s embrace that she couldn’t truly ignore what she had been feeling for so long anymore. He was surely predestined, this person who understood her and loved her because of what was inside of her and not in spite of it.

“I have to admit…” 

Snapped from her daze, she realised with mortification that she had just been blatantly staring into his eyes for however she took to come to her realisation. _Why do I always make a fool of myself around this boy?_

At her questioning look, Gilbert sheepishly grinned the impish grin she could now admit that she loved so dearly and smoothed her unruly hair for her. “I have to admit that I’m glad you like men as well as women.” 

Her brain slowed to a stop. _He didn’t mean...he couldn’t…?_

“Oh?” Sniffing, Anne feigned disinterest not wanting to embarrass herself for a third time in the space of twenty minutes, “Why is that?” 

Still grinning at her - with what Marilla would definitely call _mischief_ in his eye - he offered her his arm so they might return to the ballroom. So that she could speak to Jacque, explain her heart (and hopefully get an address so they might exchange letters) and find the others. Gilbert’s eyes were on her, keeping her warm as she took it. 

“Well, Charlie Sloane would be _heartbroken_ , Anne!”

Her outraged gasp of laughter echoed through the hall as they made their way back to the party. Despite having had _several_ crises this evening, Anne was bemused (and delighted) to discover it had only just gone 8 o'clock. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading! 
> 
> Please feel free to let me know what you thought, if you have any comments or notes don't hesitate at all to share!


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